


One Little Fatal Flaw

by YouHateInvisiblePie



Series: Let's Get Textual [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouHateInvisiblePie/pseuds/YouHateInvisiblePie
Summary: Martin finally works up the courage to ask Arthur out on a date."I quite distinctly remember you telling me that Arthur didn't quite float your boat. More than once if I'm not mistaken," Douglas said."I- I don't know what you're talking about," Martin stuttered."Oh come on Martin," Douglas replied,  "I'm not judging or teasing you for your taste. I'm just curious as to what changed.""I don't know, " Martin answered honestly, "but how did you know? ""Arthur was shouting about how you asked him out on a date at every person he passed as he rushed to tell Carolyn. So I'm sure most of the airfield knows by now."





	

It's time. Martin took a deep breath, and stepped into the cabin where Arthur was... dancing? Hoovering? Dancing with the hoover. Martin sincerely doubted that was the most efficient way to clean, but the steward seemed to be enjoying himself, so perhaps efficiency wasn't the point. Was it ever with Arthur?

Silently Martin told himself to just open his mouth and get it over with. It's time. Now or never. No more stalling. Because if he kept pushing it off he might never -

"Hi Skip!"

"Oh! Arthur. Hi," Martin replied as smoothly as only he could, pretending that he hadn't been staring at the steward instead of speaking to him. Which was the plan. The speaking of course, not the staring.

"Do you need something?" Arthur asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy.

Martin opened his mouth, paused, breathed out, closed his mouth, and tried again.

"Arthur." So far so good.

"Skip."

"Are you busy?" What a stupid question. Of course he is, he's hoovering. "I mean not right now because obviously you are busy cleaning, but once you are done. Will you be busy then?" The words fell from Martin's lips like water through a broken dam. The nervous words an unstoppable force that not even the supreme comander could control.

"I'm not busy now actually," Arthur replied, forever unphased by the captain's rambling. "There's not really a lot to do after a short cargo flight," he explained. "So what do you need Skip?"

"Uh, well, actually, you see, the thing is, I was wondering, if you aren't busy," which we have already established, so out with it already, Martin's subconscious chided, "would you like to come to dinner?" The actual question came out in a rush.

"Sure thing Skip, I love our family dinners. You, me, Douglas, and Mum."

"No, I didn't mean everyone, Arthur," Martin quickly corrected the steward. "Just you and me."

"Oh," Arthur replied, looking confused for a moment before saying "oh" again. This time with and entirely different inflection though. "You mean like a date," he said, grinning widely.

Martin nodded shyly, worried what words would tumble out if he opened his mouth.

"Sure, that sounds brilliant Ski-Martin," Arthur said, giving the nervous captain a kiss on the cheek as he walked past him, exiting GERTI.

Martin stood still.

Did Arthur just... Martin could hardly believe it. Arthur had said yes.

Martin had had so little faith in himself, barely believing that he would ever work up the courage to actually ask. So he had given no thought whatsoever to what he would do if Arthur actually accepted his invitation. Which he had. Which was brilliant except for one little fatal flaw: Martin had no idea what to do next.

He couldn't afford to take him anywhere nice. He couldn't afford to take Arthur anywhere. The realization sent the airdot captain into a panic. He couldn't afford to take Arthur anywhere!

How could he have been so stupid? What sort of an idiot invites someone out to dinner when they are broke? And a first date no less! Captain "no plan" Crieff apparently. Now what was he going to do?

It's not like he could uninvite Arthur even if he wanted to. Toast could hardly be called a meal though, let alone one appropriate for a first date. Or any date. Ever. Unless you wanted to assure it would be the last date. Pasta on the other hand could work.

However, Martin couldn't remember if he had anything back at Parkside Terrace to cook pasta with. There was every chance that he didn't even have a jar of sauce to do spaghetti. Not that Arthur would be likely to complain, but the thought made Martin feel pathetic. More pathetic than what he ordinarily felt when it came to his living situation and money-based dietary restrictions. He would just have to make due with whatever he could find in the cabinets back at the house.

Perhaps, he hoped, Arthur wouldn't mind it so much if they pretended it was a game. What can we make with what we've got? Considering that Arthur's signature dish was surprising rice, it wasn't all that big of a risk.

Still Martin worried, horrified that he hadn't planned this better.

It's time to go, he reminded himself, or Arthur might begin to wonder what happened to me.

So Martin left GERTI and made his way to the portacabin, outside of which he was met by Douglas. A smirking Douglas to be specific, which he did not take as a good sign. There was no way that he could know. Could he? It was Douglas though, so he probably did know. Perhaps if Martin acted like everything was normal Douglas wouldn't bring it up.

"What are you still doing here Douglas? We landed, " Martin checked his watch and tried not to wince "forty-five minutes ago. I would have thought you'd be long gone by now."

"I quite distinctly remember you telling me that Arthur didn't quite float your boat. More than once if I'm not mistaken. Which we both know I'm not."

"I- I don't know what you're talking about," Martin stuttered through his lie.

"Oh come on Martin," Douglas replied, "I'm not judging or teasing you for your taste. I'm just curious as to what changed."

What had changed? It wasn't like Martin had just woken up one day madly in love with the steward. He had always been fond of Arthur. Not romantically, just fond of, like with Carolyn and Douglas. Their little MJN family. It was occasionally a dysfunctional family, but he was fond of them all nonetheless. The romantic fondness was admittedly more recent.

Martin had just been looking at Arthur as he smiled about something, it could have been anything, and thought that he wanted to kiss that smile. To be a part of it. To be the reason for it.

It hadn't been a startling realization or anything of the sort. It just sort of was.

"I don't know, " Martin answered honestly, "but how did you know? "

"Well, I could say that I simply asked the overenthusiastic boy what he wouldn't stop grinning about, and seeing as he can't lie to save his life..."

"Could say? " Martin questioned the slightly suspicious choice of words that his first officer had used.

"Well I could," Douglas countered, "but that would be a lie. Arthur was shouting about how you asked him out on a date at every person he passed as he rushed to tell Carolyn. So I'm sure most of the airfield knows by now," Douglas informed him.

"Oh god," Martin groaned.

"There is nothing to be worried about, " Douglas said reassuringly. "Except for Carolyn," he added as a well-timed afterthought. "And everyone that works at the airfield beating you up if you break his heart or hurt Arthur in any way."

Martin's eyes grew wide as Douglas chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "But other than those trivial things you have nothing to fear. Except for Carolyn."

Just as Martin opened his mouth to reply, Arthur came bursting out of the portacabin and grabbed him by the arm, eagerly trying to drag him away.

"Bye Douglas! See you tomorrow! It's time for Skip and me's date! Skip and I? Martin and me? I have a date with Martin, " Arthur giggled, and with that sound Martin Crieff knew that it didn't matter how appaulingly this date might go, if he had any say in the matter it would be the first of many, which he could assure would be absolutely brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: It's time.


End file.
